Zeroing Out the Moleskine, vol. 41

A few nights ago I was listening to a really good, but criminally obscure power pop album. This one right here. I have both of his CDs, and they’re equally fantastic. And since it had been a while, I checked the internet to see if he’s working on anything new.

And yeah, he committed suicide last April… How’s that for a kick to the onions? Not exactly the kind of “project” I had in mind.

I was also reading about Hasil Adkins — another fringe character who lived not-too-far from where I grew up. He was a crazed rockabilly madman, and check out the Wikipedia explanation of his death:

On April 15, 2005, Adkins was deliberately run over in his front yard by a teenager on an ATV. The perpetrator was apprehended by police (after running over another person a short distance down the road from Adkins’ house), and Adkins identified him in a picture the police showed him. Ten days later, on April 25, Adkins was found dead in his home.

WTF?? Is that what they’re doing in Boone County for fun these days? Deliberately running over random people in their yards with gasoline-powered hick machines? Good god.

I read both of these stories on the same evening, and it was an uplifting experience. Truly uplifting.

My new agent (I won’t bore you with the details) gave me a homework assignment a few weeks ago, and I’m reading several humorous memoirs. I’m almost finished with House of Cards, about an inexperienced guy who moved to the sprawling metropolis of Kansas City, and went to work at Hallmark. It’s really good, and funny.

Before that one, I read Supserstud by Paul Feig. Feig (an unfortunate name) created the TV show Freaks and Geeks, which was a masterpiece. And his book is about his struggle with the opposite sex, during his teenage years and early twenties. There are plenty of cringe-worthy moments, and I highly recommend it.

Near the end is a full chapter about his ill-conceived attempt to, you know… blow himself. He was nearly rendered a quadriplegic during the process, and the whole thing is funny as hell. But can you imagine putting something like that into a book? Where your friends and relatives can read it?

I can’t think of anything from my past that would, um, rise to the same level. But if there was… yeah, I’d probably write about it, too. Then never leave the house again.

If any of you want to make any Feig-like confessions today, please use the comments link below. Supposedly it’ll make you feel better, so have at it.

I’m really hungry right now, and there’s not a single Miranda Cosgrove frozen meal under the roof. I guess I could make myself a sandwich, or something. But that would require assemblage, and it just seems like one gigantic hassle to me.

Yeah, I’m lazy. What of it? That’s why Wendy’s offers the number one with cheese, no pickles, and a Coke. For folks like me! God, how I love ’em.

I’m going to leave you now with a stoopid Question that might or might not work. I’d like to know your all-time favorite dumbass TV sitcom catch-phrase. You know, like Fonzie’s “Heyyyy!” and J.J.’s “I am kid dy-no-mite!”

Heh. Do any of you remember a show from the ’70s called Carter Country? There was a fat poofter gentleman on there, possibly the mayor, who always said, “Handle it! Handle it!” to his underlings. That’s what gets my vote.

So, do with that what you can. And I’m going to go pay someone to build me a lunch now.

No Feig-like confessions for myself, but I did walk in on my college roomate trying to have sex with our old strato-lounger. We had gotten the thing at goodwill and there were rips in the fabric here and there.

He tried to use one as a glory hole and got his member pinched between some springs. He was crying for help but I couldn’t stop laughing. I went and got the RA and he gave him a hand getting loose.

The RA didn’t seem to mind, but then he always had lots of girls that were friends but never a girlfriend and both his wrists always looked like they had been slammed in a car door.

I loved all Frank McCourt’s books, and I really enjoyed A Monk Swimming. I would love to know more about the father. What did he do all those years, and what did his family think of all of it? I wish there was a biography of the McCourts.

Took the second half of today off.
Am two deep into some homemade superbrew.
Am about to finish my homework for the weekend.
Am going to Tucson to have my first Five Guys burger tomorrow.
Will record mylyrical portion of an online musical collaborative effort this weekend.

Calvin Trillin’s “Family Man” is funny and warm and what the hell…it’s written by one of America’s best writer/humorists. I’ve read Mr. Trillin for much of my adult life and own all but his poetry books — perhaps 15 or 18 all together. I never read one I didn’t like.

I join the Angry One in not fancying television catchphrases. If I gave an example it would be from a show like Mr. Peepers, Dorothy and nobody would remember it, and nobody would bother to learn about this wonderful, pioneering show. So I’ll just stipulate that all happened and move on.

Yes, Mr. Peepers won a George Foster Peabody Award; it hardly matters, because the show isn’t just in black and white…it was presented live, so the only way to view the show now is via kinescope. Many were destroyed, but some remain and are available on DVD.

I was watching “Manswers” on the Spike channel late last night. And they addressed the ago old question, “Which animal has a vagina most like a human?” Turns out to be a sea cow thing. I forget the name of it. But it apparently has a very human-like vagina, complete with a clitoris, labia, and so forth. They said that sailors used to fuck the shit out of these things. And that’s where the mermaid myth came from.

They also said that 40% of boys on farms have fucked an animal. I find that hard to believe. That seems like a really high number.

Yeah, Corner Gas seems kinda Prairie and Slings and Arrows seems like Eastern Canada. Of course, for the Maritimes, we have Trailer Park Boys. Traders, another of my favorites is set in Vancouver, I think. The bastards only published Season 1 on DVD and I continue to wait for the rest of the series.

Not trying to simplify Canada. I know it’s more complicated than that, but I don’t speak French and I’m not entirely sure I could understand an actual Newfoundlander, but I’d be willing to try.

I don’t know how many years I was in love with Sylvia Fricker (Tyson), but it was quite a few. She was certainly the better singer of the two and nearly everybody in Canada is funnier than Ian. Sylvia certainly was/is.

And thanks for keeping the drinking of rye alive and well and living in Ottowa.

Thanks for making sure I got the response. Ian and Sylvia still mean a lot to me.

Alberta Premium 100% Rye is actually good for the liver because of its purity. Next time a surgeon has your lower abdomin open, take a look — the best docs actually bathe the liver in Alberta Premium to preserve it.

This has nothing to do with anything we are talking about but I have a neighbor that works on my car and I work on his computers without charging one another. It works out great. Only problem is that his friends bring HIM their computers to work on and he calls me to tell him how to fix it. For free. I think I see a free auto detailing in my future.

I’ve watched it. Those people do not represent West Virginia. It’s humorous, but they are outliers. Mercy. I hate that people watch that and think, “Oh, yeah. West Virginia.” I bet they have people that stupid in every state.

It was pretty interesting. I did not think at all that those people represent West Virginia. Every state has a ‘White’ family. Those people represent how families and people in general should NOT be. I was actually happy to know that they took that woman’s baby away, she’s so much better off NOT knowing her family.

I love autobiographies, and read ones from all over the map. Some funny, some tragic, some both. Here are a few I really liked, from off the top of my head. Oh, and since I am a chick, some of these lean that way.